Venerate
by LRWrites
Summary: Oliver Wood is in his last year at Hogwarts, but before he goes he has something to tell Harry. OliverHarry Slash
1. Prologue and Chapter One

Pairing: Oliver Wood/Harry Potter  
Rating: R (I think it's PG-13, but just to be safe I'm saying R.)  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the world and the characters, I just came up with the plot. I make no profit from these writings.

**Venerate**

  
  


**Prologue**

He takes a step back, runs a hand through his hair and surveys the pitch before him. He wonders if he would enjoy a muggle sport as much as Quidditch. He wonders if he would be any good.  
  
He is graduating this year and he is not sure if he will play professionally so he is trying to make the most of his time. He will miss this pitch more than anything. Well, not everything. There will be one thing he will miss more than the pitch, more than Quidditch, more than it all combined. And he wonders how he can know that he will miss something he never really had.  
  
It is nearly dawn, he can see the sun starting to peak, and he knows that in a couple hours, he will say good-bye to everything. For now, he'd just like to stand and watch the sunrise of the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and not think about Harry Potter, who he will miss more than this pitch, who he never really had.  
  


  
  


**Volition**

It is the middle of the week. The first week of October. Oliver Wood is addressing his team, he compliments each of them but when he gets to Harry Potter, he can't help but let his complete pride and adoration show.  
  
It seemingly goes unnoticed. When he brings himself up, he wants Harry to say something but it is one of the twins who compliments him. He does not know what he wanted Harry to say but anything would be better than nothing. _Oliver, I think you're great. Oliver, I have dreams about you and me and I..._ No, Oliver thought, cannot start thinking like that again.  
  
It is time to practice and he watches Harry fly towards the heavens before blocking Angelina Johnson's Quaffle.  
  
Harry goes in for a dive. Oliver lets Katie Bell score as he watches. he knows Harry cannot practice Quidditch over the summer, and he is always impressed with Harry's flawless performance when the year starts.  
  
He congradulates Harry when he catches the snitch and tries to concentrate on practice. This year is not about N.E.W.T's, it is all about winning the Quidditch cup.  
  
After practice, Oliver cannot help but notice the slight redness to Harry's face and arms from being in the sun. He also notices the beads of sweat on his forehead.  
  
Oliver chooses to shower as far away from Harry as possible, but still manages to throw Quidditch tips over at him, so as to excuse his eyes constantly moving over Harry's body.  
  
Oliver wants to make a move on Harry. He wants to say something but he knows Harry is only thirteen, and he does not think Harry will understand.  
  
Oliver hears what happens at Holloween and it makes him think that maybe he should talk to Harry. Just to say something, just in case.  
  
Madam Hooch sits and watches them practice, like a constant reminder of the danger that surrounds Harry.  
  
Oliver has trouble sleeping. He dreams of screams and horrible looking men attacking Harry. And he is trying to help, but he can never get there in time or he forgets the spells and he is of no use to Harry.  
  
Percy Weasley has had to wake him up more than once so that he would stop screaming. He starts putting silencing spells around his bed all the time.  
  
When he is not dreaming about Harry being attacked, he has dreams of Harry in his bed, Harry's lips on his, and Harry's body... he learned a really good cleaning spell for his sheets after the first accident.  
  
He masturbates a lot more this year. It used to be different males -- it was always men -- now it is just one: Harry.  
  
It drives him crazy. He is always thinking about Harry and when he touches himself, he whispers Harry's name and pretends it is Harry's hand on his dick, or Harry's mouth, and then he feels, oh, so empty afterwards.  
  
Oliver starts walking Harry to class a week before their first Quidditch match. He has found out it is Hufflepuff they are playing and not Slytherin and he keeps going over the strategy with Harry so that he is sure Harry understands. It is more than that, though, it is more time with Harry.  
  
He makes Harry late sometimes, and he knows Harry is becoming increasingly annoyed with him. He is become annoyed with himself, as well. He thinks it is definitely time to say something or move on.  
  
He doesn't think he would be able to move on.


	2. Chapter Two

Pairing: Oliver Wood/Harry Potter  
Rating: R (I think it's PG-13, but just to be safe I'm saying R.)  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the world and the characters, I just came up with the plot. I make no profit from these writings.

**Venerate**

  
  


**Vie**

Oliver sits at the Gryffindor table the morning of the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff and he's pleased that Harry's already awake. Today's the big day and he thinks he might just be sick, but he's happy.  
  
The weather is very unpleasant. Oliver can't remember a time when the weather was this bad during a Quidditch match. He can't eat and he keeps glancing at Harry.  
  
He leads them into the changing rooms after breakfast and he makes sure his team knows how much they need to win this game.  
  
He takes off into the air and he's got one eye on Harry and the other on the Quaffle. He doesn't think Harry can see in this weather and he hopes desperately that he doesn't fall. If he falls, then Oliver would never be able to make his speech.  
  
He had planned it all out the night before. He knows everything he needs to say; he has rehearsed a million times in his head. He can't see how he can go wrong. Well, Harry can reject him and think he's a pervert but Oliver is trying to be optimistic. This was going to be his big shot and he wasn't going to blow it.  
  
They would win the match and then he would tell Harry how much he loved him and Harry would... well, he didn't know what Harry would do.  
  
Oliver had just blocked a Quaffle when he noticed the company on the field. A darkness much different than that of the weather fell over the stadium and the ground was covered in Dementors. His eyes automatically searched for Harry and he saw, to his horror that Harry was falling.  
  
Everything stopped and Oliver just watched, helplessly, as Harry fell from a very high altitude. He started forward; totally unaware that Cedric Diggory had just caught the snitch. He is more worried than he can ever remember being in his entire life and all he can see is Harry falling and falling and falling.  
  
Then Harry really slows down. Oliver can't believe, for a brief moment he thinks that he had done it. His desperation had slowed Harry down but then he sees Dumbledore and he feels his stomach drop. Of course, he thinks bitterly, how could I have possibly helped Harry?  
  
Harry hits the ground softly and Oliver, unable to do anything to help, moves off the pitch towards the changing room.  
  
His teammates follow him. Fred Weasley tells him they had lost and Oliver honestly can't remember responding. He knows they must think he is distraught over losing... but they can't know how Oliver really feels.  
  
With his clothes on, and not a thought to how silly he looks, he steps into the shower and turns on the water, turning the nozzle until the water is steaming hot against his skin.  
  
He lays his head against the shower tiles and cries.  
  
They had lost. He had almost lost Harry.  
  
He sinks down to his knees in the shower and the hot water pounds onto his back and shoulders as he weeps.  
  
How could he tell Harry now? After this, how could he add to the already large weight on Harry's shoulders? It just wouldn't be right. He would just have to keep it to himself... it was the only way.  
  
Oliver had no idea how much time had passed but before he knew it, Madam Hooch was calling into the room. Telling him she was locking up and that he had better get a move on if he is to make curfew.  
  
Oliver picks himself up, takes off his soaking clothes, and washes himself quickly before toweling off and dressing. All his movements are mechanical as he thinks of what he has to do. For Harry's sake, he'd have to just get over Harry. For Harry's sake, he would. Because Harry didn't need the extra baggage.  
  
Oliver goes to see Harry in the hospital, he tells him that it's not his fault and he leaves knowing that Harry is well.  
  
The holidays finally arrive and Harry has bounced back from the incident completely, much to Oliver's delight. Oliver is going home for the Christmas holidays, but before he goes he reminds Harry to buy a broom. He wants to hug Harry and tell him how happy he is that he didn't die, but he can't bring himself to do it.  
  
He goes home and he spends the entire break thinking about Harry.  
  
His mother asks him on a daily basis if he's sure he's feeling okay.  
  
He doesn't feel as excited about Christmas as he usually is. The presents, as great as they are, do nothing to cheer him up.  
  
He doesn't think he can go on like this. He's not moving on like he promised himself he would. He starts to wonder how much of a burden it would be to tell Harry.  
  
If Harry doesn't feel the same way, then they can just forget it ever happened. And if Harry does... well, then it would be a good thing because he would be able to help Harry.  
  
He thinks maybe he should just get it over with at the start of the new term.  
  
He gets back to school and he sees Harry but Harry's with Ron Weasley. Why are they always together? Oliver thinks angrily, suddenly very jealous of the friendship Ron has with Harry.  
  
He wants to get it over with as quickly as possible. He watches Harry, waits for the perfect moment. Harry's gotten a Firebolt for Christmas and Oliver has offered to ask McGonagall about the broom. He talks to Harry on the pretense of keeping him updated.  
  
Finally, he catches Harry alone but he can't tell him in a crowded hallway. He can't tell him in between classes so he just asks that Harry meet him in one of the empty third floor classrooms around midnight. Harry's known for sneaking out of the common room so Oliver doesn't think it'll be a problem.  
  
Harry agrees and Oliver smiles and goes to class and tries to concentrate on his schoolwork. After classes, he tries to do homework, he tries to eat, but he can't seem to manage anything more than gazing stupidly around as he sits in his dorm.  
  
He goes down to practice and he can't keep his eyes off of Harry. He tries not to talk to Harry too much; he doesn't want Harry to think something's up. Oliver doesn't really know what Harry thinks and so he doesn't want to make anything worse than it is.  
  
He manages to avoid Filch as he makes his way to the empty classroom on the third floor. He heard a rumor that Harry had saved the Sorcerer's Stone when it was locked away somewhere in the third floor. He had been so proud and scared when he had heard.  
  
And then he's there, on the third floor looking at Harry. He had appeared out of thin air and was holding what must be an invisibility cloak in one hand.  
  
"Hi," Oliver starts awkwardly.  
  
"Hi, Oliver. What's this all about?" Harry asks him, looking around anxiously.  
  
"Harry, I... I just wanted to talk to you. McGonagall she's still got your broom. I think you should start thinking about buying a new one." Oliver curses himself for being so stupid. How could he bring up the stupid broom now?  
  
Harry gives Oliver a very disbelieving glare, "I know, Oliver, you told me this morning. Is that why you wanted to meet me?"  
  
Oliver takes a tentative step closer to Harry, he doesn't know what he is doing, his mouth and his body seem to be working independent from his brain, "Harry, you know you've made me really proud these past three years, right?"  
  
"Sure," Harry says slowly.  
  
"Our team just wouldn't be the same without you."  
  
"Uh, thanks, Oliver. That's really nice."  
  
"I wouldn't be the same without you."  
  
Harry's eyebrows rise, but he says nothing.  
  
"I'm just going to come out and say this Harry because it's not going to go away and I really need you to know that I... I want you, Harry, like I'm not supposed to. I'm gay, Harry." So this definitely isn't how the conversation went in Oliver's head but at least he has said it.  
  
Harry's lips part slightly and he inhales sharply but he stays quiet.  
  
"I just needed to tell you because this is my last year and you keep having this accidents and I worry so much that something's going to happen to you and I hate myself so much for doing this to you. I know you're only thirteen, and you probably don't understand or want the same things I want but I just needed to tell you..." Oliver trails off.  
  
He thinks it would be wise to let Harry speak.  
  
Finally, Harry speaks up and Oliver feels his heart drop, "I don't understand."  
  
Oliver opens his mouth but Harry stops him, "I don't understand what you want from me. I'm not mad or anything, it's OK. I think I'm glad you told me. I'm not sure, I just want to know what you want from me."  
  
Oliver smiles indulgently, "I wouldn't know where to start, Harry. I just want to be special to you, Harry. I just want to be with you."  
  
"You're a boy, though, I mean..." Oliver watches as a blush rises into Harry's cheeks.  
  
"I'm gay, Harry, I like boys..."  
  
"This is weird, I don't know what to say." Harry looks so flustered and Oliver wants to hug him and hold him close but he reminds himself that behavior like that would be totally inappropriate.  
  
"I know you're young and you've never had to deal with any of this stuff, I just... do you want me, Harry? Do you feel any type of attraction to me?"  
  
Harry blushes even harder, "I don't know, Oliver. I've never thought about any boy like that."  
  
Oliver starts to feel embarrassed and feels very foolish for having brought any of this up, "Just... how about we meet here in a week and you can think about it, OK? Just think about it, Harry."  
  
Harry nods slowly and Oliver backs out of the room and runs back to the common room.


	3. Chapter Three

Pairing: Oliver Wood/Harry Potter  
Rating: R (I think it's PG-13, but just to be safe I'm saying R.)  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the world and the characters, I just came up with the plot. I make no profit from these writings.

**Venerate**

  
  


**Vigor**

The week that follows is terrible for Oliver. His schoolwork lacks, his attention lack, and most importantly, practice lacks. He keeps his eyes on Harry, waiting for some sign that he has made his mind; that he doesn't hate Oliver.  
  
He's constantly after McGonagall for Harry's Firebolt; blaming poor Quidditch practice on his awful broom bringing down the team's spirits.  
  
Oliver can see the confusion written all over Harry's face. He also notices how Harry watches him, as if Oliver is a new creature he's never seen before and he'd like to study. Oliver would let Harry study him as closely as he liked but he doesn't think Harry would ever ask.  
  
He's sleeping even worse than before, and he never thought it would be possible. It's one too many dreams about Harry's lips and Harry's hand and Harry's young -- very young, he reminds himself; illegally young -- body.  
  
And then the days start to slip and Oliver watches Monday fly by, and then Tuesday, and then he's there on the third floor and Harry is standing with his invisibility cloak and Oliver can see how nervous he is. If only he could reach out and touch... but no, he's got to wait for Harry's decision.  
  
Harry's shuffling his feet and avoiding Oliver's eyes. He stops suddenly and stares hard at the wall behind Oliver, "How do you even know?"  
  
"Know what?" Oliver croaks.  
  
Harry blushes so hard and looks down at his feet, "You know, how do you know that you..."  
  
"...Are gay?"  
  
Harry nods; much too embarrassed to speak.  
  
Oliver is thoughtful for a moment, "I just knew. I think it was around your age, maybe younger and all the boys started liking girls and I didn't... I thought and everyone else too, that it was because I was too busy with Quidditch, but then I started noticing other guys."  
  
Harry's eyes rise slowly to meet Oliver's and he looks somehow sadder than Oliver can ever remember seeing him, but Harry smiles sadly and looks away.  
  
This is enough to boost Oliver's confidence in this situation a bit; at least Harry is curious. "Have you thought about what you find attractive?"  
  
Harry looks at him quickly and then back down at his shoes, "I think Cho Chang is OK."  
  
Oliver's heart drops down into his shoes and he thinks maybe it'll seep out on to the floor and Harry can step on it and get it over with. "Oh, yeah, _her_," he mutters.  
  
Harry's eyes meet his and this time he doesn't look away, "I think.... well, I mean, you, you're OK, too."  
  
Oliver smiles stupidly and berates himself for jumping to conclusions. So what if Harry's not gay, it doesn't mean he's not bisexual. "Really?" he asks, his voice much too loud for his taste.  
  
Harry blushes and nods, "But I don't know... I never thought... I'd never looked at boys... well, before last week I didn't even think and then when you and I don't know."  
  
Harry looks very upset and on the verge of tears and Oliver gives into his own impulses and walks to Harry and wraps his arms tightly around the younger boy. Harry keeps his arms at his side but doesn't tense to Oliver's touch, which Oliver takes as a good sign. He pulls away, but stays very close to Harry.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Harry, I didn't mean to put all this pressure on you, I just wanted you to know," he says very quickly and looks down at his own feet.  
  
Harry's hands start to fidget and he opens his mouth more than once, draws air and then changes his mind and purses his lips tightly together.  
  
Oliver looks up from the ground and watches Harry who seems to be thinking very hard and finally a determined look crosses his features and he looks at Oliver, "I want to know..." he pauses and Oliver is staring hard at Harry in total bewilderment, "I want to know what it's like to kiss you."  
  
Bewilderment increases tenfold and turns into giddy excitement that turns into anxiety that turns back into giddy excitement before Oliver composes himself and looks unsurely at Harry, "What... I mean, why?"  
  
Harry's cheeks which had started to lose their blush quickly burned a dark crimson, "I just... because I don't know... and I just wanted to try because I think you're OK and I didn't know how else and you don't have to... I just thought..."  
  
Oliver interrupts, "No! I mean, no, I just wanted to make sure you're not doing this for my sake. I'll kiss you, that is not a problem... I mean, I want to." He stops talking, realizing what a fool he must look to poor, scared Harry.  
  
Then they just wait and Oliver realizes he's got to lean in and kiss Harry if he is to kiss Harry at all but he doesn't want to do it wrong and he doesn't want Harry to run off and he just finally closes the space between them and he grasps Harry's arms -- to keep him in place or just to hold on to something in case his knees go weak -- and then his lips touch Harry's and their noses press into one another and Oliver knows this isn't great and he's totally screwed up and that when he lets go, Harry is going to leave and so he doesn't want to let go, and he just keeps kissing Harry, and soon, his grasp loosens and he feels a hand on his waist and he wonders if it's his imagination or if Harry's lips are really moving against his and it's suddenly not so awkward and not so bad and actually kind of nice kissing Harry.  
  
He opens his mouth slightly and Harry pulls away quickly and Oliver moves away, giving Harry space, knowing he has totally ruined everything and when did he become so stupid?  
  
"Sorry," Oliver mutters.  
  
"Huh?" Harry looks at him and upon realizing what Oliver had to be referring to, he blushes, "oh, yeah, no... it's not, I heard... something. Filch, I think."  
  
Oliver listens hard and sure enough he can hear heavy footsteps and they're right outside the door and he closes his eyes and waits for Filch to open the door but then something soft is draped over his body and he's suddenly very close to Harry. He opens his eyes and he's under Harry's invisibility cloak and Harry is pressed very tightly against him and trying to get him to slouch a bit because he's tall and Harry wants to make sure that the cloak covers their feet. Filch opens the door, and on impulse, Oliver pulls Harry tightly to him and walks very slowly towards a far wall that they can shrink against and wait until Filch leaves.  
  
Harry's pressed against Oliver's chest, and Oliver starts to idly play with Harry's hair until he realizes what he's done and he immediately drops his hands and he watches Filch knowing that Harry is looking up at him.  
  
Finally, Filch extinguishes the torches in the room and leaves. Oliver pulls the cloak off but Harry is still looking at him and they're still so achingly close.  
  
"Sorry," Oliver mutters again and he feels so stupid for having to apologize for everything.  
  
Harry shakes his head and turns towards the door, "We should go. We should both be able to walk back to Gryffindor tower under the cloak if we stay close."  
  
Harry speaks very business-like and Oliver feels like maybe he should take his chances with Filch and let Harry go back under his cloak alone but Harry smiles kindly and holds open the cloak for him and Oliver can't stop himself from walking underneath it.  
  
Harry starts to move but Oliver stops him with a hand on his elbow, "Harry, I..."  
  
"There's nothing to apologize for," Harry says softly, "I liked it."  
  
Oliver hears the embarrassment in his voice and he wraps his arms around Harry and kisses his forehead, his words are rushed as he tries to relate his elatedness to Harry, "You don't know how long, wanted to do it forever, I mean... you're so... and then things always happen to you and I just think, he'll die and I'll never, but now I have and you liked it. Oh my God! You liked it and I am just shutting up now." It's Oliver who now looks embarrassed but Harry just laughs and tugs him out of the room and into the hall and to the staircase and then up to Gryffindor tower and then they climb in and Harry pulls the cloak off.  
  
Oliver is very relieved to see that everyone has gone to bed. Harry and he stand right inside the entrance and suddenly all the nervousness that Oliver had felt earlier comes rushing back in full force.  
  
"So, goodnight, Oliver," Harry says and heads towards the staircase. Oliver stops him for the second time that night and pulls him in for a quick peck on the lips. Oliver realizes that the actual feel of Harry's lips is much better than what he had imagined.  
  
Harry smiles timidly at him and turns toward the staircase once more. Oliver watches him go, smiling stupidly to himself.  
  
There's a ginger-haired cat on one of the chairs by the fire, he picks it up and hugs it very tightly to his body before it claws at him and he sets it down.


	4. Chapter Four

Pairing: Oliver Wood/Harry Potter  
Rating: R (I think it's PG-13, but just to be safe I'm saying R.)  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the world and the characters, I just came up with the plot. I make no profit from these writings.

**Venerate**

  
  


**Vertex**

The days that follow the kiss are some of the most blissful for Oliver. Nothing could get him down. Sirius Black could come charging through the door and Oliver felt that he would have the strength to take him down.  
  
Two days after the kiss, Harry gets his Firebolt back from McGonagall and Oliver feels totally invincible. They will win the Quidditch game against Ravenclaw and then they will beat Slytherin and the Quidditch cup will be his. And he will have Harry to celebrate with.  
  
N.E.W.T.'s also seem to be sneaking up on Oliver and he knows that it means the end of the school year is drawing nearer but he tries not to think about it.  
  
Instead, he tries to focus on Quidditch and Harry and the time he has now.  
  
Harry brings his Firebolt to the practice before the Ravenclaw game and Oliver can't believe how wonderful it flies. The team goes through the practice without a hitch and Oliver wants to grab Harry and shove him into the changing room and lock everyone else out. But Harry has brought Ron to practice and they fly around on the broom while Madam Hooch sleeps in the stands.  
  
He waits in the common room for Harry and when he comes in he smiles sheepishly at him before taking his Firebolt up to his room. By the time Harry comes back down the stairs, everyone in the common room besides Oliver had gone to bed.  
  
Harry walks over to him and sits across from him in one of the overstuffed chairs. Oliver can't help but beam at him, "You flew so brilliantly today."  
  
"Thanks," Harry says quietly. "I really want to win the Quidditch cup for you, Oliver."  
  
Oliver gives him a wide grin and scoots to the end of his seat, closer to Harry, "You looked so beautiful out there today, Harry."  
  
Harry's eyes dart towards the stairwell and Oliver knows he's worried someone might come down the stairs and Oliver really wants to kiss Harry since he hasn't gotten another chance but Harry gives him an anxious look and Oliver scoots back.  
  
"We'll definitely win tomorrow, Ravenclaw won't have a chance," Oliver says in an attempt to alleviate the tension.  
  
Harry is still looking out the windows and up at the staircase as if expecting something to come crashing in on them and its making Oliver worry, "Is there something wrong, Harry?"  
  
Harry looks up at him, startled, "No, there's nothing wrong... I just, I just keep seeing things..."  
  
Oliver gives Harry a highly confused look and Harry runs his hands through his hair and tries to laugh, "You'd think I was crazy if I told you what I keep thinking I see. Just forget about."  
  
Oliver gives him a searching look but nods anyway, "Maybe you just need some sleep."  
  
He stands and Harry follows but as Oliver turns to head up the staircase, he feels Harry's hand on his wrist.  
  
"Oliver," he croaks and Oliver turns to face him and he knows how nervous Harry must be as he leans in and Oliver lowers his head to capture Harry's lips and he wraps his arms around Harry's waist and savors the feel of Harry's lips on his and Harry in his arms.  
  
Oliver parts his lips and he feels Harry's move apart as well and then his tongue is in Harry's mouth and it feels so nice and wet and just slightly terrifying. He can feel Harry's hands pulling at the hem of his shirt and he pulls away to give them a chance to catch their breath.  
  
Harry looks so flustered and Oliver pulls him into his arms and rocks him softly. Harry lays his head on Oliver's chest and Oliver rests his chin on Harry's head and feels so utterly complete. But then Harry's pulling away and still looking so adorably flustered.  
  
He looks away from Oliver, "The game tomorrow, we should..."  
  
Oliver sighs, "I know..."  
  
Before Harry can leave, Oliver pulls him in for another kiss. Harry indulges him for a minute and then he's out of Oliver's arms and moving up the stairs.  
  
"Good-night Oliver," he calls down and Oliver collapses into one of the chairs and lets himself fantasize about following Harry up the stairs and into his bedroom but he knows there would be consequences for doing something so rash and instead he picks himself up off the couch and heads to his own dormitory.  
  
It's hard for Oliver to sleep. He starts imagining how many steps it would be from his room to Harry's. After he's in the room, he imagines being in Harry's bed, taking off Harry's clothes and he really tries to stop himself. Harry's only thirteen and thirteen year olds don't have sex and they shouldn't be subjects in some pervert's fantasy.  
  
It's just hard when that thirteen year old is really mature for his age and really adorable and all Oliver can think of.  
  
He thinks Harry would look so beautiful in bed.  
  
Harry would look really beautiful naked.  
  
Harry would look really, really beautiful in bed naked.  
  
Oliver grabs his wand and hits himself in the head with it. He lies quiet still for a moment, convincing himself that he really shouldn't masturbate but his brain is telling him that it relieves stress and he really shouldn't be stressed on a game day.  
  
He moves his hand away from his wand and starts to drum his fingers on his stomach. He smiles as he thinks of how only minutes ago he had Harry in his arms. He starts thinking about how small and delicate Harry is, with his fair, smooth skin.  
  
In one swift movement, his wand is in his hands and he's pointing it at the bed curtains.  
  
"Silencio," he whispers and he tugs his pants off and throws them on the floor, he closes his eyes tightly as he wraps his fingers around his achingly hard cock.  
  
  
  
  
Oliver wakes up, startled, at the crack of dawn. He checks the time and it's really early so he lies back in bed but he can't go back to sleep: there's a Quidditch game today.  
  
After kicking at his sheets for a good minute, he gets out of bed and grabs his Quidditch robes. Thirty minutes later, he's fully dressed and sitting on his bed. There's a tight knot in his stomach.  
  
He knows the odds are in their favor, but he's the captain and he's supposed to be nervous. He really couldn't take losing again this year.  
  
He shakes his head and walks determinedly out of the dormitory and to the great hall for breakfast.  
  
Harry comes in to the hall with an entire entourage guarding his broom. Oliver smiles at Harry and Harry, to Oliver's surprise, beams at him. And when he sits down next to Oliver and they sit the broom in the middle of the table so that the rest of the school can admire it and the seeker who will be flying it. When no one's looking, Oliver squeezes Harry's hand under the table and Harry blushes slightly.  
  
They leave the great hall together and when they kick off, Oliver notices Harry looking at the Ravenclaw Seeker and as he flies up to his post, he wishes he were a beater so he could knock her off her broom.  
  
Harry doesn't seem too distracted by Cho Chang, so Oliver doesn't worry too much. But then, Oliver sees Harry swerve to avoid colliding with her and he really, really wishes he were a beater.  
  
Oliver didn't have the chance to be angry as he caught sight of three tall, dark figures approaching the field. He hoped beyond hope that Harry had really been able to conquer his problem with the Dementors.  
  
Oliver watches as Harry pulls out his wand and points it at the Dementors, something silvery shoots out of Harry's wand, it sort of looks like an animal, a horse, maybe? Oliver can't get a good look at it because Lee Jordan announces that Harry has caught the Snitch. Oliver speeds towards the ground and tumbles off of his broom right beside Harry.  
  
"THAT'S MY BOY!" He roars as he wraps his arms around Harry, their teammates soon follow suit and Oliver looks at Harry over the arms and bodies and he beams at the younger boy.  
  
'So proud of you,' he mouths.  
  
Harry smiles and the group pulls apart and heads up to Gryffindor together, Harry goes off to walk with Ron and Hermione and Oliver watches from a close distance, wishing more than anything, that he could sweep Harry into his arms and kiss him there on the pitch with everyone watching.


	5. Chapter Five

Pairing: Oliver Wood/Harry Potter  
Rating: R (I think it's PG-13, but just to be safe I'm saying R.)  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the world and the characters, I just came up with the plot. I make no profit from these writings.

**Venerate**

  
  


**Vitiate**

Oliver spends all night trying to get Harry into a corner, a room, any place with some sort of privacy but as the night draws on he starts to lose hope.  
  
Harry looks at him ever so often, and sees his pleading looks and smiles. Oliver likes to think that Harry wanted to be alone with him just as much as he did.  
  
Finally, at a quarter to twelve, Oliver sees Harry heading towards the boys bathroom. He follows and when he's inside he locks the door causing Harry to jump.  
  
"Oh God, Oliver, you frightened me," he gives a long look at the urinal before opening one of the stall doors. Oliver tries hard not to feel offended. He wouldn't really have looked. Only -- maybe -- a little peak, but honestly, what was the harm?  
  
Harry flushes the toilet and Oliver leans against the wall and watches as Harry washes and dries his hands. Harry makes sure the door is locked before turning to Oliver.  
  
"Hi," he says nervously.  
  
Oliver crosses over to him into strides and Harry looks at him nervously as Oliver's hands come to rest on Harry's narrow hips.  
  
"Hi," Oliver whispers against his forehead. "I've been trying to get you alone all night."  
  
"I know." Harry examines the print on Oliver's shirt very closely as Oliver wraps his arms around him.  
  
"I really can't believe it, Harry, we won."  
  
Harry smiles up at him and Oliver kisses him quickly, softly on the lips and Harry lays his head on Oliver's shoulder, "I'm really confused about all this, Oliver."  
  
"What are you confused about?" Oliver asks as he strokes Harry's back.  
  
"This," Oliver knows he's referring to the pair of them and he sighs as Harry continues, "I just don't know what's happening."  
  
Oliver pulls away and props himself up on to the counter-top. Harry follows suit.  
  
"What do you want to happen, Harry?"  
  
Harry shrugs and looks down at the spotless floor, "It's just weird."  
  
"What's weird?"  
  
"Everything!" Harry sighs, "It's like... I don't know. It's not normal to like other boys, is it?"  
  
"Harry... there's nothing wrong with liking boys."  
  
Harry leans back against the mirror, "I don't know."  
  
"I'm not forcing you to do anything you don't want to, Harry. If you didn't want to kiss me, you could say so."  
  
Harry gives him a slightly mortified look, "No, I didn't mean that. I like kissing you, it's just that... well, what if I like kissing you because it's kissing but not because it's you?"  
  
"I suppose you'd have to kiss someone else and compare."  
  
Oliver starts thinking of an excuse to leave the bathroom. He doesn't want to hear that Harry doesn't like him. He doesn't want to hear any of this. Everything was supposed to be perfect, Harry was supposed to feel the way he did, but it was becoming obvious that Harry didn't have the slightest idea what he was doing.  
  
"I don't want to kiss anyone else."  
  
Oliver looks away. He gives the bathroom stall doors a scathing look; he knows it's not true. He knows Harry thinks Cho Chang is pretty. He would bet a hundred galleons that Harry would like to kiss her.  
  
"Oliver, what about... other stuff?"  
  
Oliver's still glaring at the stalls, "What _other stuff_?"  
  
Harry blushes fiercely, "That guys do... with each other?"  
  
Oliver whips around to look at Harry, who turns an even deeper red, "What?"  
  
"Well, like... well, uh, how would I know if I wanted to, uh, do more?"  
  
This conversation suddenly has Oliver very flustered, "You should uh, figure out if you really like boys or girls before you start thinking about any of that stuff."  
  
Harry nods and looks away, "Have you done any of that stuff?"  
  
Oliver stares hard at his feet, "No, I haven't."  
  
It's quiet for a long time, and then Harry speaks and Oliver wonders how Harry can stay so calm while he makes Oliver so uncomfortable, "But you'd like to?"  
  
How was Oliver supposed to answer that? He could tell Harry that he did but then Harry would probably think Oliver wanted him and even though that was true, Oliver didn't want Harry to rush in. Oliver could always lie but he was sure Harry knew the truth.  
  
"I would... but with someone that was ready for taking that step."  
  
"Right," says Harry.  
  
"It's getting late, we should go to sleep."  
  
"OK," says Harry.  
  
Oliver hops off the counter and turns to look at Harry who's looking at him curiously. The counter is low enough so they're about at eye level and Harry reaches out for Oliver and draws him in for a quick kiss.  
  
Oliver pulls away briefly and looks into Harry's stunningly green eyes. He pulls Harry to him, as his tongue brushes Harry's he feels legs wrap around his waist. Oliver is so caught up in the feel of Harry's tongue against his that he doesn't really their close proximity but more importantly, he hasn't become aware of the tightness in his jeans, the tightness rubbing against Harry.  
  
He pulls back slightly to breathe and the moment he opens his eyes he knows something is wrong. Mentally, he runs through the situation and within seconds, he becomes aware of what is wrong with the situation.  
  
Horrified, he drops Harry and backs away.  
  
Harry, who also looks very stunned, blushes a deep red and turns to look at the door to the bathroom. Oliver watches as Harry's eyes widened in fear. He knows why the moment his eyes meet Professor McGonagall's through the mirror.  
  
She looks completely appalled as she looks between them, "The other Gryffindor boys would like to be able to use the restroom. Please go to your dormitory immediately, Wood."  
  
Oliver looks to Harry, who refuses to meet his eyes. Oliver passes McGonagall and goes straight to his dormitory, and straight to his bed where he hides his head under his pillow and wills it all to have been just a dream.  
  
  
  
Oliver hears an ear-piercing scream coming from higher up in the tower and he bolts upright in bed. Percy Weasley must have heard it, too, and in minutes he hears Percy running out of the dormitory. He thinks about following but the moment he steps out of his bed he remembers what had happened the night before. Suddenly, he doesn't want to leave his bed. It was safer in his bed than out there where he would be forced to face not only McGonagall, but Harry, as well.  
  
Each of the boys in Oliver's dorm comes over to wake him and finally, he throws on some clothes and follows them out of the room. In the common room, he is faced with both McGonagall and Harry but they seem much more worried about Ron Weasley than they were about him or what had happened last night.  
  
He found a seat next to Alicia Spinnet and listened as Ron told McGonagall about Sirius Black breaking into the tower.  
  
Horrorstruck, he looks to Harry, but Harry isn't looking at anyone. Oliver stands, thinking he can run over and take Harry into his arms and protect him but he immediately sits down.  
  
Harry would not want him anywhere near him, not after the incident the night before.  
  
After McGonagall leaves, all of the Gryffindor students sit together in the common room and Oliver stays as far away from Harry as possible.  
  
He first sits by his fellow seventh years and tries to listen to them talk about what will be on their N.E.W.T.'s and what each of them is doing to prepare but this conversation is much too dull and depressing for Oliver. N.E.W.T.'s meant leaving and he was not going to think about leaving even though Harry probably wanted him gone.  
  
He sat with the Quidditch team but they were discussing Harry and right before he got up, he saw that Harry and Ron were heading over to them.  
  
Finally, he took a seat in the middle of a group of second years by the fireplace. They were all discussing Sirius Black and Oliver let his mind wander as he sat gazing stupidly out of the window.  
  
Harry could have died. The thought repeated itself a million times in Oliver's head and each time, he hated himself a little more.  
  
He had promised he wouldn't add any more burdens to Harry's load but now he had. Harry didn't need to be worrying about whether or not he liked boys.  
  
Oliver ran a hand through his hair and slouched further into his seat. He felt like dirt.


	6. Chapter Six

Pairing: Oliver Wood/Harry Potter  
Rating: R (I think it's PG-13, but just to be safe I'm saying R.)  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the world and the characters, I just came up with the plot. I make no profit from these writings.  
  
**Author's Note: Thank you so much to those of you that reviewed. All four of you. And I apologize that you had to wait two weeks for the update, it will be finished very soon, I promise you.**

**Venerate**

  
  


**Vindication**

After the incident with McGonagall and Sirius Black's break-in, Oliver keeps his distance from Harry. Oliver absorbs himself in studying for his N.E.W.T.'s and of course, Quidditch. He was more determined now than ever before that they should win the cup.  
  
Practice is easier than Oliver expects. He finds it easy to give out directions and orders and advice without looking Harry in the eye. He focuses on the other players, saying that Harry knows what he has to do and that the rest of the players need to focus on getting as many points as they can in a short amount of time before Harry catches the snitch.  
  
The only time he really thinks about Harry is at night: he likes to dream about Harry coming to him in tears, telling him how much he loves Oliver and how scared he is of Sirius Black and how Oliver is the only one that can protect him.  
  
Harry's speech is usually followed by a hot and heavy make-out session that usually has Oliver panting in his bed as he comes on his hand.  
  
Other than his nightly fantasies, he does not think about how Harry hasn't come to him and tell Oliver that he, Harry, wants to continue the relationship with Oliver or that he wasn't upset with what happened with McGonagall.  
  
However, Harry avoids him and even though Oliver tries to understand, it hurts like hell. He knows that with time he will learn how to get over Harry but at the moment seeing Harry everyday, and smiling so that no one knows, is the hardest thing he's ever done.  
  
Oliver stays at Hogwarts during Easter break so that the team can get extra practices and on Wednesday he runs into Harry as he's leaving the Great Hall from dinner.  
  
Harry is flanked, as he always is, by Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger who both cheerfully greet Oliver and Harry looks briefly at him and musters his best "hello" before leading his friends to the Gryffindor table.  
  
For the rest of the week, Oliver avoids the great hall at mealtimes and instead, ventures to the kitchens for food.  
  
The hurt doesn't steer him from practice. It is all just extra motivation and with the final match so close, Oliver doesn't see any reason _not_ to remind Harry how important the game is and how he should wait until they have at least fifty points before catching the snitch.  
  
But as the first week of term winds down and the Quidditch final draws closer and closer, Oliver finds himself seeking Harry at mealtimes and in the common room and when Harry finally yells, "I KNOW, OLIVER!" after Oliver reminds him about the Quidditch match for the millionth time, Oliver realizes what he is doing and once again ceases any and all contact with Harry. This also seems to suit Harry just fine, as far as Oliver could tell.  
  
Oliver is a wreck by the day of the Quidditch game against Slytherin. He doesn't sleep at all that night and in the morning, he tries his best to muster a cheerful smile and pretend that he has all the confidence in his team.  
  
He doesn't. He doesn't have an ounce of confidence in anything -- most definitely including himself. So what if Harry was on a Firebolt? So what if Malfoy had never beaten Harry to the snitch? What did all that matter if Oliver just sat on his broom and failed to stop Slytherin from scoring hundreds of points?  
  
As Oliver begins to laugh at himself for his absurd thoughts, the oddest thing happens. Harry Potter takes the seat beside him at the table.  
  
"You look terrible, Oliver," the vision says.  
  
Oliver rubs at his eyes and laughs, even though he now feels like crying, "I'm hallucinating."  
  
"No, you're not," Harry says without the slightest hint of amusement in his voice, "I just wanted to apologize for snapping at you the other day..."  
  
There's a pause and Oliver waits, Harry looks around at the table but no one is paying attention to them so he continues, "And for everything, Oliver. After... After that night, we should have talked... McGonagall, she didn't see anything, she just wanted to ask how I've been, and you know everyone's been so worried about me lately with Black and everything. They don't think I can take care of myself. Well, anyway, she didn't see..." Harry's voice drops from low to lower, "she didn't see anything and if she did, she didn't say anything but I don't think she did but after what happened with Black I didn't want... I didn't know..."  
  
Oliver stops him, "I know what you mean, Harry. You've got so much weight on your shoulders already, you don't need me and my problems."  
  
"That's not it, Oliver. I told you I liked you, I meant it... it's just, people get hurt around me. Black is after me and he almost got Ron and I didn't want anything to happen to you. It just seemed easier but I've seen how tired you've looked lately and I know it's my fault."  
  
"No!" Oliver exclaims, loud enough to get a few people's heads to turn. He waits until they turn away before continuing, "It's not you fault, it's N.E.W.T.'s and the Quidditch Final, it's not you Harry... don't think that, please."  
  
There's silence while they both attempt to eat their breakfast. After a few minutes, Harry whispers to Oliver, "I still want to win this game for you."  
  
Olivers heart leaps and with the butterflies already working overtime, he can't seem to force another peice of food down. Instead, he waits while everyone else eats so that they can go out onto the pitch and win a Quidditch match.  
  
During the game, Oliver takes two bludgers to the stomach, but that pain deminishes completely the moment he sees Harry wrap his beautiful fingers around that beautiful golden snitch.  
  
He's on the ground in record time and he seizes harry around the neck and sobs unrestrainedly into his shoulder and he can feel Harry laughing, still holding the snitch in his hands and Oliver wants nothing else than to hold onto Harry forever. He barely registered the other bodies that had joined them, all he noticed, all he cared about, was that they had won.  
  
In his final year at Hogwarts, he has gotten to kiss the one boy that he has wanted since he sat eyes on him and he had won the Quidditch Cup. Even if he never kissed Harry again, life was good.  
  
  
  
Oliver thinks that the party that night might just go down in Gryffindor history as one of the best parties ever thrown. Fred and George Weasley acquire a mountain of sweets and liters upon liters of butterbeer. Oliver is in a euphoric state.  
  
Early in the evening, Harry corners Oliver who has no idea what to expect from a second incounter in one day with the younger boy.  
  
"I felt something today when we won that I had never felt before," Harry says simply.  
  
Oliver raises an inquisitive eyebrow but says nothing.  
  
"I never wanted to kiss anyone before you, Oliver. And today, the only thing I wanted was to kiss you. I..." Harry starts to say something else, but Oliver presses a finger to his lips to stop him.  
  
"We can't talk here. It's too loud. My room OK?" Harry nods and Oliver leads him up the stairs to his dorm room. He doesn't think anyone will notice if they're gone anyway, and even if they do, he knows a pretty good locking spell.  
  
Once they're in the room, Harry takes a seat on the bed across from Oliver's and Oliver sits on his own. Harry smiles shyly and moves to sit next to Oliver.  
  
They both start talking at once and then they both stop and apologize. The tension builds as they both have so much to say but don't know where to start and it would be so much better if one of them had the nerve to break the ice.  
  
Oliver takes a deep breath and looks to his left, at Harry, "So... you said you wanted to kiss me, does that mean that...?"  
  
Harry blushes so beautifully, "I think so."  
  
Oliver doesn't know what else to say. There's nothing else to say, is there? The only logical thing to do is to kiss Harry and so he does.  
  
For two seconds, Oliver remembers that Harry is only thirteen and that there are a lot of people that want Harry dead and that he will leave in just a few weeks and pursuing this relationship would probably cause more heartache than anything but those two seconds are over quickly and he pushes Harry gently and they both fall back onto the bed and Oliver really likes this angle and he wonders if anyone in the world has ever felt as good as he did.  
  
He honestly doesn't think so.


	7. Chapter Seven

Pairing: Oliver Wood/Harry Potter  
Rating: R (I think it's PG-13, but just to be safe I'm saying R.)  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the world and the characters, I just came up with the plot. I make no profit from these writings.  
  
**Author's Note: I apologize for the long wait. The story is now done.**

**Venerate**

  
  


**vacuity**

Oliver tries not to talk when he's with Harry. He knows there are things to say and things that have to take place but with only a week left of school, he's not ready to say good-bye. Not to Harry, anyway.  
  
He has the conversations in his head, instead.  
  
"Harry," he says to the mirror, "I'm in love with you, and I don't want to leave you."  
  
And his mirror snickers and Oliver bangs his forehead against it.  
  
"Harry, I'm leaving in a week and I know I'm going to miss you a lot, I just don't think you're going to miss me..."  
  
His mirror is silent so Oliver continues, "We don't see each other much now that Quidditch is over and when we do, it's brief because you're so scared and so I kiss you and try to make you feel better but nothing I do is good enough and I still think you don't want me."  
  
He looks at the mirror, he looks himself in the eye and he whispers, "You tried and you don't feel the way I do."  
  
He hurts because he has Harry and still it's not enough. Harry has to want him too but he doesn't and Oliver's heart is breaking and Harry doesn't even notice.  
  
  
  
"Oliver?" Oliver looks up from his books. It's one in the morning and he's in the common room looking at leaflets trying to find a purpose for life after Hogwarts.  
  
Harry is standing at the common room entrance. Oliver hasn't seen him since Harry was admitted to the hospital the night before. Oliver smiles, and motions Harry to sit beside him. Harry takes a hesitant step forward, keeping an eye out for anyone who may be around. This hurts Oliver, who has grown tired of hiding.  
  
"I thought you'd visit this morning."  
  
Oliver goes back to his leaflets, "I didn't think you wanted me to."  
  
"You didn't think I wanted to see you? Why would you think something like that?"  
  
"I don't know, why did you look to see if the common room was empty before you sat down?"  
  
Harry reddens from embarrassment but Oliver doesn't see because Oliver's eyes are trained on the papers in front of him.  
  
"I... I don't mean to... force of habit, I suppose. I'm not, well, people know we're friends. It wouldn't be that odd if you visited me."  
  
It's silent and Oliver feels Harry's eyes on the leaflets, he suddenly wants to hide them. He doesn't want Harry to bring up what they mean but he doesn't want to fight with Harry about their relationship, either.  
  
"Have you... you know, decided." He looks pointedly at the leaflets and Oliver feels his stomach drop.  
  
"Puddlemere looks like a good Quidditch program. I wouldn't be playing right away but I do want to continue with Quidditch."  
  
"Yeah, me too." Oliver hears the strain in Harry's voice, "are you excited?"  
  
"About graduation? Not really."  
  
"Why not?" Harry asks automatically and Oliver wonders how he could possibly not know why.  
  
"Because I'll miss everything. I'll miss you, Harry."  
  
Harry turns away, "Oh."  
  
Oliver looks down at his feet, "I knew it would end, it was inevitable. Sometimes it feels like it never even started." Oliver sounds bitter, even though he tried his best not too.  
  
Harry closes his eyes, "I never knew what you wanted from me."  
  
"I know that," Oliver says and he slouches into his seat. He's frustrated and he wishes Harry had never come down to see him. He wishes they could just skip the argument that will no doubt ensue.  
  
"I like you, Oliver. I know that now. It's just different for me... everyone watches me. People are always after me. You don't know what it's like." Harry is getting frustrated too.  
  
"I know I don't know what it's like. I tried not to push you; this is just how I feel. It shouldn't matter now anyway, I'm leaving and we won't see each other anymore."  
  
"This isn't how you want it to end, is it?"  
  
Oliver gives Harry a disbelieving stare, "Is this how you wanted it to end?"  
  
Harry smiles softly, "I never thought it would."  
  
"What did you think was going to happen after I graduated? You live in Surrey with your aunt and uncle. I don't even live in the same country."  
  
Harry sighs, "I know that. I just never thought about it."  
  
It's silent and Oliver starts to wonder if Harry will miss him. He feels silly asking, but he has to know: "Harry, will you miss me?"  
  
Harry blushes, "Yes. A lot."  
  
Oliver puts his arm around Harry's shoulders and kisses his cheek. They sit in silence for a while. This will probably be the last time they will be together like this, and they both want to enjoy it.  
  
"I want to tell you something, Oliver."  
  
"OK."  
  
"I want to tell you what really happened the other night..." Harry starts to tell Oliver about going to Hagrid's hut and Buckbeak's execution. He tells him about Sirius pulling Ron under the whomping willow and how he and Hermione followed. He tells him Sirius's story. He tells him everything that happened that night because he feels he needs to. Harry wants to show Oliver that he thinks Oliver is trustworthy enough to know Harry's secrets.  
  
Oliver doesn't say anything for a moment after Harry had finished speaking, finally he said, "You're very brave, Harry."  
  
Oliver pulls Harry close to him and they sit and stare out the windows to the night sky outside.  
  
"I don't want you to go, Oliver."  
  
"I don't want to go either, Harry."  
  
  
  
  
**epilogue: sixth year**  
  
Two bodies stumble into a broom closet after dark. One has black hair, the other blonde. They're holding each other tightly as their lips lock once more.  
  
The brown hair boy moans as he pulls away, "Stop."  
  
The other boy pants as he pulls away, "Why?"  
  
"I can't do this."  
  
The blonde boy bangs his fist against the wall, "What's wrong this time, Harry?"  
  
Harry looks away from the boy, "Nothing's wrong, I just can't."  
  
"Fuck!" He hits the wall again; "It's the same fucking thing every time. If you're so fucking repulsed by me why the fuck are we even together?"  
  
Harry shrugs and the other boy storms out of the closet, slamming the door behind him. Harry slides down the wall and sits with his knees up against his chest. He feels like crying because he really wanted it to work this time. It just never feels right, he always thinks about Oliver. He always wants Oliver.

**THE END**


End file.
